Fairytales
by dragonfly-siren
Summary: We've heard endless stories of true love. Perhaps it's just that; a legend, a story. Or perhaps, once upon a time, it did exist...


**Fairytales**

Dragons and unicorns may be just a fairytale.

Or, perhaps, they did exist once. Just like true love. A myth that's been told a thousand times, yet no one is sure if there really is such a thing. Some say there isn't, that it's just nonsense, a foolish illusion created by a troubled mind. Some say that it's everything, even that they've found it. Who can say for sure?

Perhaps miracles do happen.

There is only one certain thing:

Eternity cannot be found. It should be questioned before winged horses and mighty beasts. If miracles happen, they will eventually fade away. If there have been unicorns, they have died. Everything that feels, everything that lives, will cease to be. That is why no one can say if all those things are just a lie, or if they're true. There is no one left who would have seen them with their own eyes. We can only believe.

_The love story of a century._

Are those words nothing more but an advertisement? They sound good. Perhaps that is all.

Perhaps.

I cannot say if this was the love story of the century. If even the love story of a day. But it was some kind of a love story, and if you want to believe, this might prove the existence of that one legend. The greatest of all.

True love.

Once upon a time…

That is how all fairytales begin. I will tell you this as a fairytale, for I can't be sure. We can never be.

So, once upon a time there was a poet. If you hadn't been blinded by the everyday life, you could have seen the way he glowed. How darkness hadn't stained his skin. Miraculously, he hadn't been blinded. His heart hadn't crumbled.

And this boy, he did believe that true love existed. Even that he could find it in his lifetime.

No, believe is too strong word. He hoped. Wished with all his heart.

And there are times… Times when, even if you don't wish upon a star, your wishes may come true. But one day, they will fade away, because eternity… Well, you remember, don't you?

This embodiment of innocence was somehow lured to the depths of the Underworld. The purest creature in the darkest, most stained place, where the creatures of night and shadows suffer in silence. Suffer with dazzling smiles forever painted on their faces, suffer surrounded by glimmer of the stars.

Perhaps she was a star.

However, she was there. She had woven a cloak of twilight for herself and drowned herself in it. Illusions – always being so much more beautiful than the real world – were enough to hide her from the lost souls. Not from him.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't lost. He was looking and he found what he was looking for. Perhaps it was because she didn't want to hide herself away from him. But that was something she didn't tell herself.

Her skin, her shell, it might have been stained. There might have been words of darkness carved to her bones. But she wasn't hollow, not just yet.

There were parts in her soul that were already empty and deserted, and now his siren's song filled them so painfully that she was woken.

And lost. Now that she had been stripped bare of that twilight cloak, she longed for drowning again. Longed for the song of the dryads in her ears.

And so she drowned in his eyes.

In his innocence, he was partly blind, although not blinded in the same way as others. The deepest darkness was only twilight to him and so he could not understand the darkness tainting her. All he knew was how to wipe it away.

And so he drowned as well, to the depths of her eyes, of that darkness.

Light has never been as gentle as darkness, never as sheltering, never as soft.

Human beings need to own the sky. The sky they can never reach, the sky they can never understand. Still, they need to have it as their own. As well as its stars.

Where there are miracles, there must also be shadows. Some of those shadows are invisible to the eye, only their menacing presence can be sensed at times. Some of them are obvious. Even creatures at times, with greed and desperation lurking in their eyes.

If she was a star, the creature wanted her because of that. Or perhaps because in the darkness, where there were only illusions swirling around, lost in a reverie, she was the one that caught his eye. (Is there anything more beautiful than darkness filled with illusions, nothing more?)

If the poet could have owned her, if he could have forced himself to it, maybe then…

But that was just the thing that made him so special, so unique. He didn't know how to own things. Only darkness can wrap itself around everything, never light.

Destiny, that mischievous child, plays with the ones she wants as her own.

The star, the siren was ripped away from her lover's arms. And the pain caused by this forced him to open his eyes and see the darkness on his skin.

He had become blind.

Almost, at least.

She was still lost to his eyes, lulled to soothing sleep.

It's never easy to wake to the knowledge that dreams are more beautiful than anything that is real.

This time Destiny was merciful. …On second thought, it wasn't.

But She did let her back to his arms, back to his deep eyes. And at that very moment, there was a soft movement, a quick, silent twist.

"You cannot leave me like this… You are everything… What do I live for now?"

Silence.

Ripped apart by sobs, by a shattering heart.

You must watch where you walk, there are fragments all around.

Where do the notes go after the player has dreamt the world away?

Do you believe in magic?

In fairytales?

In true love?

Disclaimer: MR doesn't belong to me. Surprising, isn't it?

A/N: I don't really know what to say about this. It's strange, but at least it haven't been done a thousand times before. And, once again, please feel free to point out all the mistakes, so I'll learn a little more. Thank you.


End file.
